Drinks
by Jak-of-a-Few-Trades
Summary: Jak reminisces about Sandover while drinking, remembering how trouble always followed.


"…and there were 20 less metal heads in the world!"

Jak could never get drunk, no matter how much he's had to drink. Any alcohol consumed would be purified by his light powers. There was always that line, though, where he consumed more than his powers could handle. This was rare, and the few times he'd done it the Naughty Ottsel closed until the next shipment.

"Oh, and Jak helped."

The foam rose whenever Tess would refill his glass, faintly reminding him of waves caressing Sandover's glassy shores. Drinking always brought him in the mood to remember, though it was clear its purpose was to forget.

The ottsel laid his elbow on the blue tunic covering the shoulder, shooting finger guns at Tess, only to blow the 'smoke' from the tips of his paws, causing her to swoon over her knight in orange fur.

"Aaaw, my little hero!" Tess gushed, giggling could be heard from behind the bar. A small glass was placed in front of Jak. He knew it wasn't for him. "How about one of my shnookums' favorites?"

Gentle hands began reaching for a brass, ovular bottle. Inscriptions carved into the metal, signifying the make and proof.

/-/

Laughter from a young blonde pouring his bag's contents onto the bed, followed by amazement from the young boy next to him, could hardly be contained in their small shack. Twenty-one whole precursor orbs, a sight to behold, and an insurmountable wealth for the two.

 _Did ya steal these from Old, Green, and Wrinkly!?_

A jerky headshake in response was not enough for the young redhead, who knew his friend would never lie to him. His eyes were too honest for that.

 _Then where'd ya get 'em? Yer uncle ain't one fer sharin'._

Another excited headshake declared it wasn't his uncle. His emerald-blonde friend wasn't talking, and the redhead's tittered, yet silent, declaration of what would happen if he didn't tell wasn't working.

 _Well, ya better spill or I'll be forced ta do this!_

The redhead jumped on him, fingers fumbling around the blue tunic furiously. Laughter poured out, loud enough to inform the village that the children were up to their antics again. The laughter died down as the blonde gave in to the huffing of his friend, using up much of his energy in his assault.

/-/

The giggling blonde fielded an electric blue bottle from the shelf, turning, then removing the cap. Blue liquid poured into the glass, sloshing as the orange figure eyed the talent of mixing a simple drink, adoring every second of it.

Tess gushed, twisting a cap back on while giving Daxter attention that only made him want that drink more. She looked up at the many shelves, noting around for Krew's special stash at the far back. He wasn't around anymore, and only Daxter and affiliates could use them. Eco had as flourishing of an effect on a body as did alcohol, and Daxter knew that all too well.

 _/-/_

 _This? Looks like one of them Precursors got a bolt loose._

By the young blonde's determined look, glaring at the metal lump, this must have been the place. A foot nudged its side, followed by two hands grabbing from underneath. After a failed attempt, the boy sat down next to it. Dark blue eyes looked up at the blonde, followed by another failed attempt at moving the lump.

 _You expect me ta do everything around here? Sheesh!_

The blonde began to run, jumping over to the next platform. Static rattling as a shimmering ball of blue was absorbed, turning into an aura around his body. Another running jump, ending with a roll, led the boy into a direct collision with the other, tumbling next to the metal. Small flashes of blue lightning sparked onto the metal, a sound erupted from the platform. Golden spheres poured from the ground, falling around the befuddled pair.

 _We did it! We're rich! Wait till they see what we discovered, huh Jak?_

The blonde chuckled at his friend, surrounded by brass spheres and hair freely floating from static. He babbled on about wealth before reaching upwards, running his hand through red locks. Looking over at his reflection in the orb, he threw it fastidiously at his friend.

/-/

Brass began to mix with the blue, pluming to create an orange cloud. The concoction settled, forming small, orangish streaks. "Orange" Lightning, as she called it, though it was clear that the brass did lighten in the blue. A cutesy, yet devilish, smirk etched onto Tess' face. She knew what she was doing.

This was the problem: Dax could not handle his alcohol. Or would not. There wasn't much a difference between him when he was sober, or when he was drunk, except for the slurred language and frequent love talk aimed towards Jak. However, this never deterred the ottsel from overdrinking and compensating for his lack of coordination with a louder voice, nor could it stop Tess from "helping" in the matter.

Drunken Dax was all that Tess ever needed to brighten up her day even more than it already seemed to be. For Jak, the orange figure always brought a couple of sneers and smirks as he retold stories of Jak beating Kor or his fights in the arena. The other patrons in the bar did enjoy a show, most of them that is.

"D'ya see that, Jak?" Daxter chatted. Jak laid his hand down between his shoulder and the bar, acting as a stair for Daxter's descent. "At least my sugarplum recognizes when a hero should be-" a glug, "rewarded."

"I'll be back boys," Tess gushed, giggles filling the room again, "Torn asked me to count the ammo stock in the back, but my little hero will be tough enough until I get back, right?" Tess swooned over to Daxter, eyes and lips beginning to pout, partly to promise him that she'll be back, the rest to apologize for Torn using his bar as the Freedom League's headquarters for the current duration of the war.

Jak swirled the remainder of his stout, a small whirlpool formed in response, swallowing the foam from the brown liquid. It always tasted the same, but it reassured Dax that he was trying to take on his problems, even if drinking wasn't necessarily the best way to do it. By now, Daxter was too busy chatting with the patrons at the closest booth.

"And I said nuthin…. Nuthin! Would eva…" Daxter's words began to slur; he was drunk. Already. "Geh ME! Ta face off gainst' tha crazy… LUNATIC! Again!"

Daxter's hostages began to laugh right as the ottsel began to trip, seemingly from his own words. The orange body slumped back up to finish, eyeing his empty drink.

"He neva was a…" Daxter slurred, placing down his glass, "match for good ol' Jak ova here, righ big guy?"

Jak was too enveloped in his drink to notice. He had never been able to relax this much. Enough to dissociate. The sound of zoomers starting and taking off in front of the Naughty Ottsel silenced the voice.

/-/

Zoomers shot through the green landscape, hastily dodging yellow boxes tinged with dark eco. The Dead Man's Gorge race was the most popular race, where betting could reach well over a hundred orbs. The two boys, bags filled with their loot, watched in excitement as the black zoomer shot through the finish line, a time of well under a minute! The small crowd cheered.

 _You think you can beat HIM?!_

An ecstatic nod was what the redhead feared, knowing that the other was too stubborn to take "no" for an answer.

 _Fine, but I'm only betting YOUR share of the loot. Got it, tough guy?_

Keira would never mind if they took the zoomer without her permission, of course, it was under the belief they were "testing" it for her. Watching the course throughout the years surely brought experience about the track, and _actual_ testing gave him the experience he needed to think he had a shot at racing.

/-/

The orange body nudged at Jak's shoulder. He had somehow made it to the bar stool next to him, despite being in the current shape he was.

The ottsel's hand turned into a fist, hitting the blonde's shoulder once again. The sound of 'ey, righ big guy?' followed by a thud as the body fell to the floor. The punch was at full power, which was relatively nothing, except to Daxter, with the pushback throwing him off the seat. A gloved hand fell to the floor, the ottsel gladly climbing on, elevated back onto the bar.

Jak knew it was coming. It always was.

"I love YOU mannn!"

 _/-/_

 _I… You… you won! I love you man!_

The buckteeth formed into a wide smile, holding back an uproar of excitement as he held the winning ticket. Jak won, and Daxter placed the twenty-one orbs all on him, as promised, even if the black speedster was his favorite. They jumped and high-fived, turning to run towards the center hut.

' _Magine what we can do wit-_

The fumble was unexpected, the blonde pushed to the ground, the redhead forced into a chokehold. The ticket was plucked from his hand as a solid punch landed directly on his stomach. The sack behind him was ripped open, catching the spike from the man's uniform, before he was pushed to the ground. The precursor orbs he, well mostly Jak, worked for spilled out.

 _Oi, where d'ya think ya were going with OUR winnings, kid?_

/-/

The laughter of the bar was broken as a man with blue armor rose from his booth, followed by two others, gear alike. Guns were held at their side; brown tattoos littered their face and neck. The patrons stared silently. Even if the KG disbanded, that did not mean they stopped existing.

"This the little brat who took out Erol, eh?" The face peered onto Daxter's, poking the blue tunic next to him. Daxter could see the flinch in Jak's eye. He wouldn't risk them thrown out again, inevitably to be asked to return. It already proved trouble enough just to excuse his presence in Haven.

"The mega-lo-maniac never knew wat hit 'm!" The ottsel stood proudly, over-inflating Erol's death to look as if he didn't kill himself, that Jak killed him.

Bar patrons began to leave, the Naughty Ottsel would be closing soon anyway. They did fear the silent, young blonde sitting at the bar, who was known to slash and tear apart those who confronted him. Yet, the overwhelming fear of KG in new uniform scared them the most; a killer in protector's armor.

The prodding turned to the ottsel. Jak, unwavering, staring deeply into his glass.

"S'mthing wrong wit 'm? The imperative caused small, deep blue eyes to look next to him. He knew Jak couldn't cause a scene, wouldn't. He had to be here to protect those he loved, even if it meant being belittled by the guard.

He was paying attention to all of this, right?

"Only thing wrong with 'm is he's stunned! Ya breath stinks, sheesh! Breath mint?" A large hand grabbed two, small ears, pulling the ottsel off his stool.

"Don't think it stinks worse than an _eco-freak_ running 'round the city, eh boys?"

The two behind chuckled nervously, they knew the extent of what could happen, even if they managed to report back to Torn.

"This little mongrel right 'ere too, ripe as a hip hog!" A large glass filled with brown liquid was grabbed, "He could use a bath, da blond floozy you gaggle at prolly' thinks the same."

The tail lowered into the swill beneath him, soaking the tip. Shivers were sent up the ottsel's back from the cold on his sensitive tail.

"Jak, HELP!"

 _/-/_

 _Jak, you gotta get up! Please, Jak! Jak, HELP!_

Another punch to the gut forced the redhead to double over, falling to the ground with a thump.

The man's face reeled as the fist landed square into his jaw. The other looked on as the man dropped to the ground, blood spilling down his cheek and onto his black hair. He looked at the boy who delivered a blow hard enough to knock out the other, eyes glared to show a fiery passion. No one could harm Dax and get away with it, not while Jak was there. Two powerful feet slammed into his side, throwing him near his partner.

Before Jak knew it, he had been tripped by the man he thought was knocked out. The other resiliently picked himself up, setting his foot down on the blonde's hands, arms grabbing his feet.

 _They ever tell ya to respect your elders, kid?_

Jak couldn't remember any pain from the powerful kick, all he saw was Daxter slowly get up, looking on in shocked silence as his best friend was beaten in front of him. The redhead recovered his stamina, always being the fastest, and began to run, screaming. The two men immediately stopped, eyes following the redhead running directly for the large shack in the center of the village.

 _Forget 'em, just grab the ticket and go. He's going for the sage, an I am not dealing with that lunatic again!_

/-/

"Put him down."

A morph gun was directly aimed at the leader of the group. Blue eyes scowled at him, a finger readying the trigger. Daxter looked at Jak, then at the guard. He knew what was in the swill beneath him, and he'd be in deep shit if the guard dropped him or died.

"Heh, Torn really has you on a tight leash," the guard smirked, "else you would'a shot and been kicked outta Haven already."

Clenched teeth bared at the guard, Torn forbid him from killing any of the freedom fighters, even if most were Ex-KG. Haven's Grand Council would have a field day if they found out three freedom fighters were found dead in the Naughty Ottsel, filled with bullet holes or sliced open. He didn't exactly need another wave of posters condemning him as a "monster."

"I said put him down."

"Or what, you'll cry that yer rat got wet?"

"Ottsel! Thank you very much!"

Jak fully controlled himself, he couldn't, wouldn't, put Daxter at risk. Not again, not ever, even if the only thing he was in danger of was smelling like sewage for a week. He had been training on controlling his anger, not bashing in the skull of anyone who dared look his way.

This situation was different.

"I don't like your tone, rat. Let's see how much guts you really got."

A small glint shone from the other guards' pocket.

That control faded.

Daxter's eyes grew wide at the sound of the snarl. Dark sparks filled the room, tapping at the metal of the floor and the armor. The drink and Dax were both dropped at the sight of the sickly purple figure, claws outstretched.

The deafening sound of the roar caused the guards to cover their ears. They no longer saw the blue eyes that threatened them, but now a black abyss that meant the "leash" was cut.

Jak couldn't hear their screams as he lunged. Green eyes full of terror, frozen, as the one they called "eco-freak" fell upon them. The guards could do nothing but cower in preparation for the onslaught they unleashed. An onslaught that never came.

The butt of a gun hit the back of his skull hard enough to knock him out, nothing more. The obsidian skinned teen slumped to the ground.

"Jak!"

 _/-/_

 _Jak, please please please tell me you're alright!_

Eyes opened, one surrounded by a purple haze from under the skin. The blonde tried to push himself up, only to fall back down on his injured arm. The redhead looked at his friend, a large purple blotch formed on his injured side.

He lifted his shirt, showing a much smaller purple section where he was punched. His friend let out a snort.

 _The ladies do love an injured man, but sheesh, I'm the one that's trying to impress 'm!_

Those were all the injuries he had, excluding those to his pride as he ran away, screaming. Jak was happy he ran, he never wanted anything bad to happen to Daxter. He flinched in pain as he tried to get up once more.

 _Jeez, you better stay put until Old Greenstuff's here, BlueBoy already called him_

He had run to the blue sage, who caught the two with the ticket. The ticket had "disappeared" with the gambler who ran the races, per usual. Jak didn't care, all he cared about was that his friend was safe and that he took the brunt of the blows himself.

 _Y'know, you can't keep doing this, tough guy._

 _Yeah, yeah, the whole "hero" thing, right?_

 _I'm your damsel in distress, huh? Save the princess, can't let nuthin happen to 'm._

Jak smiled, using his good hand to grab the redhead and pull him close. The hug was unexpected, but the smirking buckteeth didn't mind.

 _Well, buddy, this princess can take a beating!_

' _Sides, you always keep me safe, right? Nothin' ta fear when you're around._

The blonde nodded in agreement. He'll always be with him, no matter what happened. He lifted out his hand, curling in all fingers but the smallest. Blue eyes gazed at the other, an eyebrow raising as if asking a question.

 _Fine, fine! Always sentimental with you, huh?_

/-/

"Ooof!"

"Don't ya think that was a little much, babe? Darkie, in MY bar, of all places!" The ottsel reared for another jump, the body turning to throw him off before he could.

"Tess came rushing in, smacked ya with one of her "other" babies before you could do anything." Daxter muttered something under his breath, along the lines of 'she is FIERCE,' followed by a growl and scratching motion. Jak ran his fingers through the back of his hair, expecting blood. A soft pillow underneath was all he could find.

"Them eco packs sure do the trick, huh?" The ottsel walked towards the green roots, observing the face of his friend.

He could see the blue eyes look him over, searching for cuts or lumps of any kind. The orange face smirked.

"Like what ya see? The Daxter-express is in primo-condition, baby. Next stop, Jak City!" Daxter chortled, doing a quick turn around for Jak.

"What… what happened back there?"

Fuzzy legs climbed down, moving to the green goatee in front of him.

"Before, or after Tess not only saved our hides but the hides of them guards?" Daxter sighed, arms crossed. "What were you thinkin'?"

The goatee moved slightly as a chuckle came from the mouth above it.

"We coulda been kicked out of the city… again! Worse, I could have been stuck washin' blood out of my fur for the fiftieth time this month!"

A hand moved from underneath the blanket, wrapping itself around the small, orange figure.

"Oh no! You are not guilting your way past this!"

The comment was too late, the second hand wrapped around the small body, forcing him against the blue tunic of his friend. A sigh passed, and the small arms laid themselves out.

"You're lucky I love ya, just think about yourself next time"

Jak smirked in response, it was all he could do. He let the ottsel go after the few seconds, watching as he hopped down from his thigh to the bed.

A small fist rose to Jak's face, a small finger popping out amongst the others. Daxter turned his head away from Jak, mumbling.

"What?"

"I said, 'promise me you'll think about yourself'" Daxter relented. His is face still hidden, clearly embarrassed to even have to ask his best friend, the strongest person he'd ever known, to think about himself occasionally. Especially in such a way.

"Wow Dax, when'd you get so sentimental?"

"I learned from the best, huh?" His gaze returned to the blonde, "Just get it over with already, don't want no one to walk in and see us gigglin' over a promise."

The finger grasped onto the small, fuzzy one. Gripping tight.

"I promise I'll try."

"Great, now stop cutting off the blood flow, I need all my fingers to hold on the second you forget this"

* * *

Author's Note: If anyone sees a story like this and it has a very cliche Jak and Daxter name, that's me and I've polished this up a bit. A friend told me that I should put them up on here as well, so here you go?


End file.
